


The Witch and Nos at the Luckee Star

by Sailing the Malky Way (Fan_by_Proxy)



Series: Kinks of the Night [2020 prompt list] [3]
Category: Vampire: The Masquerade – Bloodlines (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, Blindfolds, Bondage, Creampie, Dom/sub Play, Embarrassment, F/M, Impact Play, Kissing, Mild subdrop, Penis In Vagina Sex, Rope Bondage, Suspension, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:27:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28975857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fan_by_Proxy/pseuds/Sailing%20the%20Malky%20Way
Summary: Gary Golden is currently nursing a fascination with an outwardly cold Tremere librarian, and after the usual Nosferatu means of seduction, has convinced her to join him at room #8 at the Luckee Star motel for a real good time!
Relationships: Gary Golden/Original Female Character(s), Gary Golden/Original Tremere Character(s)
Series: Kinks of the Night [2020 prompt list] [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2097768
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	The Witch and Nos at the Luckee Star

Gary licked his lips, then smirked. The Tremere was trembling, covered in a fine, pinkish sheen of sweat, muscles fighting against the ropes that were keeping her arms and legs in check. She hung from the ceiling, ropes crisscrossing her chest and arms and legs with her ankles almost meeting her wrists; the Tremere was a little too stiff yet to really bind up neat and pretty, but that was easily improved with a lot more time together. He ran a hand from her chest down nearly to her sex, delighting in the quiver and shiver that ran across her skin. “You’re _dripping_ , witch.” Gary murmured, flicking her clit; it was swollen and dark, clamped firmly between the not-so-gentle jaws of a peg. The action caused the Tremere to gasp and flinch, and a another sticky drop of excitement fell from her lips to the ugly carpet beneath. “Making _quite_ a mess to boot; I feel bad for Housekeeping.” he teased.

“ _Fuck you_.” Celeste hissed between clenched teeth. She was on _fire_ , from the top of her head to the bottoms of her feet, and it had _nothing_ to do with the rope biting into her skin or the frankly _excruciating_ pressure on her clit. The Nosferatu had been _toying_ with her for at least an hour at this point, alternating between light little touches with his nails and his _stupid_ lips and hard slaps and pinches and the threat of a bite from needle sharp teeth. She swung wildly (although not literally, thankfully) between hating him with every fiber of her being and loving his every growl. At the very least, she was blindfolded, and didn’t have to see the undoubtedly smug look on his face.

Gary chuckled. “Stubborn, stubborn little witchy-poo,” he said as he dragged his nails up her stomach and then viciously twisted her left nipple. The Tremere’s breasts were soft and small, and their tips took a lot of coaxing to stand out where he could grab them at will. He liked that though; getting her that riled up was an accomplishment to be celebrated.

Celeste grunted, then whimpered. The way Gary had her strung up and tied, she couldn’t bring her thighs together to even attempt getting some relief on the sly. The Nos was in charge of the moment, and they both knew it. “ _Fuck you_.” she repeated, huffing.

He debated taking the blindfold off, to catch the rage in her eyes. The witch had eyes as bright as the star on the neon sign of the motel they were currently destroying, and there had been moments here and there the past few times fooling around that they’d gone soft and sweet and that was them at their absolute golden best. “You know what to say to make it end, sweet-cheeks.” Gary taunted, grabbing both of her nipples and pulling them hard enough to make her cry out and thrash. “But I know you need just a little more convincing, and I’m _happy_ to give it to you.” he practically purred, moving to the dresser to pick up the crop.

Celeste huffed, clenching her fists as best she could in the position she was in, still determined to hold onto at least one teeny tiny sliver of dignity. She _had_ to try, even though the double-damned Nosferatu had this _way_ of driving her up the wall and getting her to do things she hadn’t even done in her mortal life.

Then the first lash landed on her side, drawing a drop of blood she barely had time to notice before the skin healed and barely-softer blow landed between her breasts. “H-h-ha! That the--that the best you’ve got?” Celeste managed to get out, albeit shakily.

Gary licked his lips. He rolled his neck, savoring the stretch. Then he tugged his shirt sleeves back up his forearms, adjusted his grip on the crop, and drew back. When the witch relented--and she would, eventually--it was going to be _so rewarding_.

The hits were smart, some drawing blood but mostly just fast and sharp; vicious like bee stings that flared hot and barely had time to heal over before the next one landed. Celeste grunted every time a blow landed on her thighs (or deliciously _worse_ , her inner thighs). When an errant blow landed on her clit and broke the peg--and it _had_ to be a mistake, he had been so careful thus far--and the blood went rushing to her button, Celeste had had enough. “ _I yield_!” she screamed, shivering and straining, feeling more slick excitement drip from her. It was _mortifying_.

Gary took a deep breath through his nose, dropping the crop and cupping her face. There was _barely_ a hint of warmth to her skin. “You know what you gotta say to make it stop, sweetheart.” he purred. There were actually two things she could say to make things stop, but there was only one option that would take care of the miserable strain in his pants--he really hoped that was the one she picked.

Celeste bit her bottom lip and whimpered.

He bent low to purr in her ear. “Tell me what you want, pretty little witchy.” Gary said before flicking her earlobe with the tip of his tongue. It was a dirty trick to pull at that stage of things, but he was pretty close to his limit too.

“ _Fuck me_!” Celeste blurted out.

“What was that, princess? What do you want?”

Celeste whimpered, frustrated. “ _I want you to fuck me! I want you to stuff your fat stupid goblin cock into my stupid fucking cunt and fuck me!”_ she bellowed.

Gary chuckled, shaking his head, too amused to be insulted. The witch was just _barely_ holding it together enough to give him the relative answer he wanted; the nonsensical insult rolled right off in light of that. He undid his pants and tossed them onto the dresser, then moved behind the witch and stood between her trussed up thighs. He guided his cock into her surprisingly warm, slick cunt, then curled his fingers around the ropes at her waist. The moan she loosed as he took time carefully seating himself deep was loud and long. Gary growled in response, pleased. “That’s right sweetheart, _sing for me_.”

The Nosferatu Primogen’s cock was long and thick and a little warped; the length studded with knobs that caught and dug at her soft spots when he drew his hips back. Celeste howled as he set a punishing pace, scratching her skin as his grip switched from the ropes to her waist. That only made her mind go blank, and she gave up any semblance of control. There was just pleasure: bone-jarring, gut-wrenching, shooting-stars-across-her-vision-and-drooling-with-an-open-mouth _pleasure_ that had never happened for her _once_ before when she was human.

 _God_ did Gary love a good, vocal partner! Romantic coos and breathy sighs were all well and good for some, but he _wanted_ his playmates to be loud--to lose all good sense and civilization, to unhinge and just _enjoy_ the fucking. And the way the stone-cold librarian howled and keened when he stroked her and stoked her and got her wound up? It was worth every dirty dollar and crooked penny in Hollywood!

Somewhere in the middle of the third orgasm, Celeste had started to cry; she was only dimly aware of a dryness in her throat that clashed with the wetness on her cheeks. The only sensations that _really_ mattered were the Nosferatu’s wonderfully disturbing cock rearranging her nerves, his solid weight against her body, and his hands sudden warming as they slid from her waist to her chest and squeezed. She barely heard his warning through his growls, but she nodded anyway. Another wonderful, _wonderful_ upside of vampirism was not having any reason to even pretend to try the rhythm method.

Gary shuddered as he came, feeling the tension slip away in spurts. He was panting, she was crying, the hook he’d punched into the stud in the ceiling was creaking…it had been a good time. “Arms or eyes first, princess?” he murmured, hands moving lightly over her skin and back to her waist to hold her still so he could pull out.

“Arms.” She rasped as a tremendous wave of guilt and embarrassment came crashing down on her.

As Gary made fast work of the ropes and helped her down, he could feel the tension coiling right back into place. He managed not to sigh, even when she pulled her head away from him when he touched the blindfold still in place.

“Don’t--don’t look at me.” Celeste said, even as she clung to the Nosferatu; one foot was asleep, and she needed a little more time to get the stretch back in her knees.

“Come on princess, come on.” Gary murmured as he eased her down to the floor and sat her against the foot of the bed. “Easy does it, nice and easy--stretch those beautiful legs out.” Gary pressed on her thighs and knees a little to coax the joints. “You’d make Esther Williams jealous with these.” he added.

The compliment just made the mortification worse, and Celeste didn’t answer.

This time, Gary sighed--albeit briefly, and through his nose. He put an arm around the Tremere. “Talk to me princess, what’s wrong? What are you feeling?”

Celeste shook her head rapidly, head turned away from him determinedly.

“Let’s try this again.” Gary said firmly. “Where are you sitting?”

Celeste frowned behind the blindfold. “On the…on the floor.”

“And what does it _feel_ like?” he prompted.

She licked her lips and took a breath. “It’s…hard.”

“What else do you feel?” Gary continued.

“The…the carpet. It’s…it’s tickling the bottoms of my feet.” Celeste said softly as she slid her feet a little along the nubby brown flooring.

“And?”

Celeste ducked her head. “Your…arm. Behind me. It’s very…firm.”

He chuckled, working her hand open from its half-hearted fist and holding it in his own. “And this?” Gary asked, watching a blush of pink rise between her breasts and race up to her collarbone. So she didn’t flush in the face--that was something good to know.

“Your hand,” Celeste’s whisper barely rose above the tired AC unit’s racket, “it’s gentle.”

“Good…so what else are you feeling, princess?” Gary continued to coax.

She swallowed. “Embarrassed…”

“Because?” he pushed, even though the smart bet was on it being because she’d just let a Nosferatu split her sundae six ways from Saturday. “Go ahead and say it, princess, it wouldn’t be anything I haven’t heard at least once or twice.” Gary said drily.

Celeste shook her head fervently, then cast him a shy look. “No, no it’s not--I--uh…” she fumbled and bit her lip.

 _That_ was a surprise, to say the least. Not to mention the bashful way she’d peeped up at him had given the director downstairs a real rush. “You can tell me. It’ll be our little secret.” Gary teased lightly.

“I’m still…” _Oh_ trying to say it was mortifying! She’d gone to bed with a few different people before being Turned, and while the experiences had been varied but generally alright, she’d never felt the need to keep going once the deed was done. But right _now_? “If--if you said--if you _asked_ to go again, I’d--I’d…” Again, Celeste ducked her head in mortification.

“ _Oh_ …oh _princess_.” Gary purred. He shifted to a more comfortable seat on the nubby carpet and adjusted his grip around her shoulders, then pulled her leg over his. She was pliant when she was bashful; it had a certain unexpected appeal compared to the stubborn, bratty-but-cooperative little witch he’d started with. “Do you want me to get you off again? You want me to use my fingers, like that night at the archives?” Gary murmured, trailing his nails along her inner thigh. “You remember? In the corner of the stacks, and Strauss was on the other side of the aisle, and I had to put my hand over your pretty little mouth to help you?” He watched the flush on her chest darken just a little.

Celeste shuddered. She’d bitten the Nosferatu Primogen’s hand _hard_ when she came that time; how Strauss hadn’t caught them, she still didn’t know. It was a memory she’d revisited more than a couple of times just after the wake-up alarm rang, that was certain! “Please?” she said faintly.

Gary chuckled, trailing his fingers along her inner thigh one last time before sinking two fingers into her messy pussy. He toyed slow and easy, but it was obvious she was still fired up from before. “How many was it before, princess? Hm? Can you tell old Gary that?” he asked as her head tipped back on his arm and her mouth dropped open.

“Th-th-three, m-m-m-maybe four?” Celeste stammered as his wickedly clever fingers went to work on her slick folds. That was probably the most dangerous part of him (outside of vampirism and sex drive): his hands. The Nosferatu had long, blunt, thick-knuckled fingers and a broad palm; when he gripped something, like a book…or any part of her…he held it solidly. His fingernails were sharp but not overly long; she didn’t know if he manicured nightly or if he’d been blessed with a better manicure at being Turned than she had.

“Let’s see if we can’t make a couple more happen--” he started to say, but was cut off by the witchy librarian arching and grabbing his wrist with both hands. “ _Well_ , that’s one.” Gary smirked.

Celeste whimpered. “Then what?” she keened.

“Then I put you on the end of the bed, and finish you off like you won’t let me at the archive.” He replied, feeling the strain in his wrist as her grip tightened again. She wasn’t pulling his hand away though. “Now be a good girl and let me kiss you.” Gary commanded, free hand gripping the back of her head to force her to face him.

As another surprisingly fast orgasm welled up, Celeste complied eagerly. She let go of the Nosferatu’s wrist to grab his shoulder, popping a couple of buttons as she pulled him into a torrent of hungry, sloppy kisses. That was another thing he did _stupidly_ , frustratingly well with his stupid sculpted lips with their corners constantly twitching up in a smile.

It was easy to forgive the lost buttons when a girl was this much putty in his hands. Gary met her kisses just as eagerly. He felt her bear down on his fingers again; this one was better, he could tell, because her legs got into it too--there’d be a bruise on his leg where her foot had caught him when she slammed her legs together, but it was worth it to make her writhe. As soon as Gary could get his hand free, he hefted her onto the end of the bed and got her on her belly, then slid right back inside. Sometime later, if they kept going like this, he’d let her know how much he liked it just like this--no toys or tools, just two bodies coming together repeatedly and stressing the mattress springs. But that was for later.

Gary hung back, giving her the first shower after they’d both caught their breaths from the second round. He stretched out on the bed and watched her slip back into her clothes. “Sneaking back home after this, _princess_?” he asked, as if it were just a way to fill the silence.

“No, actually--I’m supposed to be at the archive, so that’s where I’m going.” Celeste replied as she slid her feet back into her flats. She got up from the end of the bed and smoothed her leggings, trying not to look back in an obvious way. Fortunately, the mirror across from the bed afforded her a pretty good look.

The Nosferatu Primogen lay on his back, hands behind his head and ankles crossed, the picture of repose despite what _should_ have been a ridiculous ensemble: black socks and stocking garters, banana-print boxers (and his considerable girth _still_ hanging out of them), and a white, badly creased dress-shirt with its sleeves rolled back and gaping on his chest. He grinned, obviously catching her lingering look in the mirror. “Have fun then.”

Celeste snorted, going to the door. “The place is still a mess and thanks to _you_ , I’m even more behind tonight.” she said coldly.

“You didn’t _have_ to come.” Gary pointed out, fully expecting her to scoff and close the door sharply. It surprised him when she paused, one foot over the threshold, and looked back at him.

“No…no, I suppose I didn’t,” Celeste began thoughtfully, “but I can’t say I actually regret it.” she finished, stepping out fully and closing the door softly behind her.

“ _Well_ …” Gary sat up, and chuckled briefly. “Wasn’t expecting that at all.” he ran a hand over his face. “But I sure did like it.” he mused before getting off the bed to start getting somewhere approximately close to decent so he could clear out of the Luckee Star.


End file.
